Valentine's Night
by InvertedMeridian
Summary: What happens three years after Eric's marital incarceration? Read, and find out. An Eric/Sookie two-, possibly three-chapter short story. As my A/N will tell ya, I am anti-canon, therefore CROSSOVER: TB and SVM. Eric/Sookie HEA.
1. Chapter 1

**Valentine's Night, An Eric and Sookie Short – Chapter 1**

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**A/N: CAUTION: I AM THE ANTI-CANON. I'm taking the barest gist of what was written in THAT SO-CALLED "BOOK" WHICH SHALL NOT BE NAMED (****_and various items from TB, so don't be surprised_****) and twisting it to suit my needs. Since SHE WHO REALLY SHOULDN'T BE NAMED could freely change on the briefest of whims any facts she had previously written to suit her current writing needs, then I can, too… So, on that note, I give you my interpretation of how things could have been: **

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**Background:**

After three very long, very miserable years of a despised forced marriage and many vengeful machinations, Eric had finally maneuvered the weak and despised King Cyrillus Hardin of Florida into pitting Felipe De Castro against Queen Freyda the Whore-Bitch. Subtle rumors being as they are, no one could trace the origins of certain threats and innuendos, and once they gained momentum, they grew into their own savage beasts.

As expected and suitably encouraged, Freyda, vain, greedy, and not all that intelligent, fell for the perceived threat of her former cohort De Castro, and obligingly waged open war against him.

By extension this war included all of De Castro's subjects, which gave Eric the perfect opportunity to rid both De Castro and many of his followers of their undead existence. Later it was perceived to be De Castro's fault that Freyda's bejeweled, product-infused head tumbled down a well-lit stairwell. De Castro. Of course. The rapist formerly known as William "Bill" Compton was, sadly, a casualty of friendly fire. Sadly.

How Hardin managed to become separated with his own head remains a mystery to this day, but no one is overly-concerned. Temporarily burdened with kingship over Nevada, Arkansas, and Louisiana, King Northman happily watched as Hardin's highly-capable second in command begrudgingly took over Florida. That any vampire in their right mind would want "The Sunshine State" was beyond him, but it certainly wasn't his problem…now. After he handed over the Regency of Arkansas to Pierce Novak, a physically unassuming yet brilliant vampire of surprisingly immeasurable help during his marital incarceration, neither was Arkansas. He never had anything against that fair state, which in fact had a great many positives, but the foul miasma of Freyda lingered low and vile.

King Northman then placed his eldest child, Karin, in charge of Nevada with the injunction to spare no one who held even the taint of loyalty toward the old regime. Karin happily complied, and no one much minded that, within a few nights, Nevada had 'misplaced' a quarter of her vampire population. Her child, Dougan McAlister, was quite proficient.

Now all his problems were solved…save one.

Sookie Stackhouse.

Sookie Stackhouse Merlotte.

He shuddered.

Sookie Stackhouse.

At least she had already gotten that damn shifter out of her system, Eric thought as he paced the length of his office in Shreveport. After divesting himself of the problems of Arkansas and Nevada, his next order of business had been to establish a "royal residence" in Shreveport as he had no intention of staying anywhere near New Orleans. It was a great city to visit, he thought, but damn'd if he wanted to live there.

Shreveport was closer to Bon Temps.

He finally lowered himself onto one of the leather sofas in his office, and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. It had now been over three years since he had insulted Sookie by offering to make her his fucking _mistress_. He had been desperate, and had not stopped to consider that he was basically offering to make her his whore, but he could now see exactly why she would take it that way…because that was exactly what he'd suggested.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a long, hard road ahead of him if he was going to get himself out of the mess that he'd created. Not for the first time did he wish his glamour held power over her mind.

Foolishly, he'd also told her of his threat to turn her. Somehow, he didn't see himself being able to make up for that one. His only excuse was how very desperate he had been to keep her in his life in some way, in any way. In his anger, he'd delighted in the thought of changing her, of creating her eternity whether she wanted it or not, and of having and using a Maker's Command to control her. Remembering the insane ideas that had snaked through his half-crazed mind during that time revolted him.

He'd been hurt, too, during that time. Badly. His Maker's betrayal, which had not surprised him, had blended with what he had viewed as a betrayal by Sookie, which had wounded him much more deeply than he'd cared to admit at the time, and created a savage vortex of emotional anguish. It was no wonder he'd struck out at her in a fundamental way.

That she'd chosen to use that damn cluviel dor to save her furry little friend instead of caring enough about him… He nixed that train of useless thought…then wanted to both destroy the room and throw up at the thought of her having sex with that damn shifter. He could just imagine Sookie's reaction if Sam had proposed shifting into an alternate form in their bed.

At the time it was obvious to him that she'd chosen to save her friend rather than her husband, but looking back rationally, he could almost understand her decision. Almost. He hadn't made certain that Sookie understood that there was _no_ legal way of avoiding the marriage sentence. In her lack of complete knowledge regarding the situation and in the wake of her friend's imminent demise, she had made the best decision she could considering the information available to her.

They both had made decisions that led to the death of their relationship, and those actions had little to do with his Maker selling him into what amounted to sexual slavery to a weak bitch queen. She could have used the cluviel dor and saved them somehow – he still didn't entirely understand the magic behind it…and he could have talked with her more about what had been going on and made certain that she knew he had no other option.

But he had had to be _the Alpha_, he both consoled and berated himself. He had to take care of his own problems, and to even discuss them with his chosen wife would have been a weakness he couldn't allow…a sharing of the burden that he just couldn't permit.

And now…because of his pride and his Maker, and by his own actions and words…and lack thereof, he had lost her. True, his Maker's subversive actions certainly hadn't helped, but he could have taken Sookie into his arms and literally flown them away from all that was happening. But that would have been no life for either of them. For one thing, he never ran from his problems, and Sookie would never have agreed to leave behind either her family or its homestead.

If he had only talked with her, had let her know what was going on and how very dire the situation truly had been, then maybe…

He sighed.

Well, his Maker was finally dead, and so was the bitch. He was free, finally free, even if the encumbrance of monarchy was an annoying yolk around his neck. At least being a king did enable him to properly protect his Sookie.

However, he wouldn't blame her if she chose to never speak another word to him. He still couldn't believe he'd told her about his plans to turn her against her wishes…

Somehow disentangling himself from an enforced vampire marriage had been easier than he wisely figured regaining the affections of a single part-fairy woman would be.

He called Pam.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

**Present Day:**

_**(Marked through) **__My Dearest Sookie,__**(end marked through)**_

_**(Marked through) **__It is with great…__**(end marked through)**_

_**(Marked through)**__ I hope this letter finds you well…__**(end marked through)**_

_**(Marked through)**__ Considering our parting words, I am not sure how you will regard my con...__**(end marked through)**_

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

**_•~•0•~•_**

_Dear Sookie,_

_First, I apologize to you from every corner of my heart for all the words I last said to you. You are still, and will always be, the wife of my heart, and I solemnly vow upon this night to never turn you without your express permission. Please forgive me for ever having suggested otherwise. _

_As you hopefully now know, I am free of the marriage forced upon me by my thankfully dead Maker. I am free, Sookie. For the first time in my entire existence, I am free, and I would choose to spend my freedom with you if you would have me._

_I will be the first to admit that we have many problems to solve between us before such a thing could truthfully be imagined, but I want to. I want to do whatever is necessary so that we can be close again._

_Sookie, I underestimated you, and I will always regret not making sure that you knew exactly what was going on with my Maker's edict in forcing me to marry someone definitely not of my choosing. I hate that you may have thought that I wanted any part of that travesty. _

_I already had a beautiful, courageous, generous, and delicious wife who I wanted, who I loved, and who I still want and love. _

_You._

_I will not give up on my dream of being with you, but the choice is yours. Should you choose to have nothing more to do with me, please know that your security in Louisiana, Nevada, and Arkansas is always assured, and if you should ever need anything, anything at all, let me know and the world is yours. _

_Into eternity,_

_Eric_

**•~•0•~•**

Fucking Eric.

Curled up on the old sofa in the living room, Sookie dabbed her eyes after she read the letter for surely the hundredth time. She grabbed another tissue, then wrapped the ugly old afghan back around her legs. January was cold enough even in Bon Temps. So where the hell had he found fresh daisies?

Every letter had been accompanied by a huge bouquet of fresh, lovely daisies. Far be it for her to turn down pretty flowers in the dead of winter. On autopilot, she picked up the second letter she'd received from _King Northman_, who had sent her a letter a week for the last three weeks.

**•~•0•~•**

_My Dearest Sookie,_

_Unless you command me to stop, I will continue writing you. I find a strange solace in thinking that you are reading my words and only hope that you actually are._

_I don't know how much attention you pay to Supe activities, so you may or may not be aware that I have moved the "base of operations" from New Orleans to Shreveport. While it is true that I am more familiar with the Shreveport area, what you may not know is that I did this so I could be closer to you. _

_So as to not frighten you I will not tell you just how often I think of you and the times I spent between your lovely thighs, but rest assured, I do. Thoughts and images of you occupy my mind very, very frequently. _

_Eloquent words cannot express the depths to which I miss you._

_On another note, it seems my Sergeant at Arms, your fan Rasul, still remembers you and inquiredas to your health. He is now Karin's most capable Sergeant at Arms in Nevada._

_Pam sends her regards…of a sort. She declined the Regency over Arkansas. She says her shopping would suffer in that "pretty shopping void", and refuses to admit that she has no desire to leave my side. I am fine with this although my credit cards are suffering greatly._

_Should you find yourself in Shreveport and wish to drop by, simply come to where the old Plausington Estates _were_ located near the river. "They" are now the royal residence. Your name and image are known by every guard to assure your easy entrance, and a suite has been created and set aside for your convenience. I would love to have you drop by._

_I would love to have you, period._

_And on that note I will close this letter. Until next time…_

_Into eternity,_

_Eric_

**•~•0•~•**

Fucking, fucking Eric.

Sookie rose on unsteady legs, determined to subdue the grin threatening her lips as she added another log to the fire. The fire in the fireplace brought back memories of when Eric did, in fact, 'have' her.

At the time she didn't realize that those were the halcyon nights of their relationship. They were by no means perfect, but they were very much _perfectly_ imperfect, if such a thing were possible.

Wanting the comfort of a hot drink, she made herself a cup of hot chocolate. On the way back to the living room, she ran her fingertips over another huge vase of fresh daisies and grabbed the bag of marshmallows…and the now well-worn flannel shirt many sizes too big for her smaller frame. While the shirt no longer held his scent, in her imagination it still did. It was also tangible proof that the heavenly nights gone by had actually existed.

That shirt was what had brought the truth about her sham of a marriage with Sam to a head. His shifter nose knew the truth about the worn-out flannel, and he had demanded that she throw it away. She refused. He threatened to leave. She opened the door for him and told him to not forget his toothbrush.

A week later he had called wanting to return and work on their marriage. She informed him that she'd already called her lawyer, Mr. Desmond Cataliades, and had initiated divorce proceedings. For the past two and a half years, she and Sam had proven that they fared much better as friends than spouses.

With Sam, she had felt loved, and adored. She had her "breakfast with the hubby" times, and she'd had peace, but it hadn't been…enough. He had even encouraged her to take classes on line to get an education, and even if his suggestion was based more on his jealousy at watching her serve other men in the bar than on any sort of care for her future, she did take his suggestion, and now had a two-year business degree.

While others may mock her for being so proud of such a small accomplishment, to her it was invaluable proof that she could do better things. She had several ideas floating around in the back of her mind about how she could use her education, and now that she had her two year degree that took her two and a half years to achieve, she wanted to get something, a career of some sort, going.

Granted she didn't have to work. Ever. Unbeknownst to Sam, once she had contacted Mr. C, her entire world had changed. Once she was officially single again, Mr. C had a few things to tell her. A few billion things, to be more exact…

Her fairy great-grandfather, a certain Mr. Niall Brigant, had left her an honest-to-God fortune, much information, a fairy dagger, and a vial. And, on his orders, Mr. C had been forbidden from telling Sookie about the contents of his will and demon-secured safe until she was single again. It seemed no one in the Supe world was surprised her marriage to Sam the Shifter hadn't lasted.

Some days her head still reeled with all the information she'd received. Since Niall hadn't anticipated seeing her again anytime soon, he felt obligated to inform her more about her fairy side.

He'd said she would age very, very slowly after reaching her maturity. In fact, she actually looked a few years younger now.

He'd said she would probably develop more fairy powers as she aged. Now, not only did she have her "microwave" fingers (and could easily heat and chill food and beverages, a gift she actually found useful), but she could "pop" at will, and if she concentrated really hard, she could also call someone to herself…much to Sam's dismay.

One night about a year after her divorce, she had sensed an unknown Were in her woods and had unknowingly popped Sam to her side; they were both glad he had been dressed. The Were was actually looking for Sam, had traced his scent to Sookie's house, and had attacked the shifter when he came out onto the front porch. That was when Sookie realized that she could also levitate living beings before frying them. She later practiced levitating inanimate objects, too, but still couldn't call them to her.

Ensconced back on the couch, Sookie took another sip of her hot chocolate then placed the mug on the table. She looked at her fingertips, and for the millionth time wondered why her powers hadn't manifested in time to save Eric from The Bitch Queen.

Then she wondered if it would have even mattered. According to Eric, he'd been planning on turning her, the ultimate betrayal, before then. And he hadn't even bothered telling her what was really going on with the whole marriage fiasco.

That was two insurmountable betrayals in a very short time. Months ago she had admitted to herself that she did still love the bastard, but he had betrayed her trust in several ways, and as much as she did love him, Doormat Sookie had left the building.

Once she knew his reasoning, she may have tried to forgive him for locking her up in his basement dungeon like a common vampire criminal and for fang-raping her afterward, but she certainly hadn't forgotten it, nor had she forgotten how he had used her without bothering to even ask her first.

And he _still_ hadn't learned to actually _talk_ to her. She also hadn't forgotten how purposefully cruel his bite had been after killing Madden. He had hurt her and on purpose…that was certainly not something you did to someone you supposedly love, she didn't think.

Sure, she thought, he'd been mad that she hadn't been jumping for joy over Madden's death, but damn, that was no excuse to attack her like he did. After all, she'd helped to plan it all out – that should have counted for something. Just because he was pissy that she wasn't excited over death and vampire goo wasn't an excuse to hurt her on purpose. That was just plain abusive.

After blowing her nose and wiping away tears from painful memories, she ran her fingers over his third letter. Funny how much more conversational he got in a letter, she thought with exasperation. If he'd been this communicative in person in the past, things may have been completely different. But, it was too late now, she reasoned against the pull in her heart.

The cluviel dor had been used, and while Sam's life had been saved, her marriage to Eric hadn't been. Of course, that marriage had been on a downward spiral from its deceptive inception: not once had he ever _truly_ asked her to marry him.

He just considered that the handing off a pretty knife made it a done deal whether she wanted it or not. Of course she knew _why_ he had done it, and she had come to honestly appreciate not only the protection afforded her by that action, but the thought behind it all. He had genuinely cared about her and wanted to keep her safe even at possible detriment to his own position in the vampire hierarchy.

Having Amelia create a potion to break their bond was the worst thing she'd ever done, she suddenly realized. She should have at least discussed it with him beforehand, during what little time he'd been around, that is.

She also realized a bit too late that vampires and humans have different ways of judging the passage of time, too. What had felt like forever to her had probably only seemed but a moment to a vampire who was over a thousand years old.

Yeah, she'd done her own share of things to ensure the failure of their marriage, but even so, she was certain that she could never really trust him again. He had done too many things to break that trust, especially there at the end.

Hadn't he?

Oddly both reluctant and eager, she slowly withdrew the letter from the fancy, expensive 'King Northman' envelope, smoothed it out, and read it.

**•~•0•~•**

_My Dearest Sookie,_

_I have sent you two letters, and have yet to hear back from you. This causes an unfamiliar feeling in my chest: fear._

_Am I too late? Am I being too impatient? Has too much time passed by? Have I made too many mistakes to win back your love and your trust?_

_I fear that I may have, and this tears my old heart to pieces._

_Every night I long to wake with you in my arms. I very much long to hold you in my arms once more, to smell the sunshine in your hair and on your skin. The memory of your touch, of touching you, haunts my waking hours. _

_I am jealous of your hands as they get to touch your hair, your body. I am jealous of your eyes in that they get to see your reflection in your mirror. I am even jealous of your bed as it gets to hold you in your slumber. _

_Yes, I am king, but even with all the power currently at my disposal, I feel no elation without you by my side. How can I say this? You belong by my side. I once promised such a thing, and I long to bring it true. I need you by my side._

_I realize that I cannot undo things from the past, no matter how much I would give to be able to. You deserve my best, and I have consistently shown you much less than that. In a way I feel that you don't know me at all, and it is my fault for holding so much of me away from you._

_While it would kill me, I can understand if you no longer wish to be involved with me, but I have to ask: can we not at least be…friends? Can we at least start over as friends? _

_I will beg if I must, I will plead for a word from you, even just a word. Waiting to hear from you, and receiving nothing, is torture. _

_Please._

_Yours truly in eternity,_

_Eric_

**•~•0•~•**

Fucking, fucking, fucking Eric.

How dare he! Fucking Eric with his fucking…begging. Pleading.

She knew exactly how it felt to go weeks without hearing from the one she loved.

Doormat Sookie may be gone, but Sookie was…still herself. She couldn't stand the thought that Eric was that miserable. Although a part of her, the part that held the best grudges, wanted to make him suffer, even though she didn't trust him she still didn't want him hurting.

Sookie finally retrieved her nice stationery and sat at the kitchen table to compose a reply.

**•~•0•~•**

_Eric,_

_Friends? Really? After all we've been through together? I don't know if I __trust__ you enough for that. _

_I know I'm a telepath, but you can't expect me to read your mind, Eric. You have to actually talk to me, using words and everything, instead of keeping unimportant little details like YOUR IMPENDING MARRIAGE away from me. And you owe Pam a huge apology for acting like an ass to her, too. _

_You would not believe how angry I am at you. I was sitting on the couch earlier tonight remembering all the things you've done to me, and that's when I realized that even if I did still love you, not that I'm saying I do, I wouldn't ever be able to trust you, and if I can't trust you, I can't be with you._

_To be fair, though, I also remembered all the things you did do for me, and I want to take this chance to tell you that I did appreciate them, and I do appreciate them. I see now that you stuck your neck out for me a lot of times when maybe you shouldn't have, but you did it anyway. Thank you._

_But in a lot of ways, neither one of us has been all that good for the other, or to the other. I don't know if we could stop that, either. _

_Ever since I divorced Sam, which I'm sure with your spies you know all about, I've been making a point to be more honest both with myself and with the people around me. _

_So, here goes: I regret breaking the bond. There, I said it. I regret it even if doing it told me what I needed to know. I needed to know if I really loved you, and I found out that I did. I did really love you._

_Of course __that__ information came too late. _

_I'm bitter about our forced divorce, the humiliation of it all, and the shock of it all. I'm bitter that you didn't even care enough about me to TELL me what was going on. I deserved to know, hell, I might have even been able to help – cluviel dor, anyone? – but you didn't even bother to 'grace' your wife with the knowledge that you had a MARRIAGE coming up until it was too late._

_Yes, Eric, I'm bitter. _

_You played the whole thing off like you had some sort of magic that would fix it all, but no, you didn't. You had too much pride, and that was it._

_Well, I hope you're enjoying your new single status. __**(Marked through)**__I'm sure some other bitch queen will come along with an offer you won't refuse.__**(end marked through)**_

_Anyway, good luck being king. I know you never wanted that kind of responsibility or paperwork._

_Sookie_

_PS: Thank you for the daisies. Where did you find daisies in the winter?_

**•~•0•~•**

** •0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

The night Eric received Sookie's reply, he immediately canceled all plans and sequestered himself to his chambers. He held The Letter under his nose and took long, slow, deep breaths of the paper to capture every scent, then placed it gently atop his bedside table.

With hands that shook slightly, he warmed the bags of blood that comprised his evening repast, then downed the foul liquid as quickly as he could and savored the memory the taste of his beloved.

Finally he admitted to himself that he was scared to open The Letter. What if she, somewhat rightly, told him to go fuck himself? What if his spies, her guards that she knew nothing about, had missed something and she was actually involved with someone else? No, he consoled himself, they were too thorough for that to happen. He knew of her every movement, even if he didn't know why she was in contact so often with Cataliades, of all demons. No, she wasn't seeing anyone else.

He took The Letter in hand once more and debated opening it in his bedroom, or at the desk in his den. The desk won out on the probability that her letter contained news he wouldn't like.

When he finished reading The Letter for the fifth straight time, dissecting every word, every phrase, and every possible angle, he went to his bathroom to wash the bloody tears from his face, but nothing could contain his smirk. True, she had called him out on some of his shit – he did love her fire, but…whether she realized it or not, she'd also left it open for him to reply, and reply he would.

.

.

.

****A/N Pt 2: Sections of letters that were marked through have the words (Marked through)(end marked through) because ff apparently doesn't have the ability to show when lines are marked through. ** Ok, is this worth continuing? I have one more chapter in mind for this (unless the muses attack) – do you want it? What do you think?****


	2. Chapter 2

**Valentine's Night, Chapter 2**

****A/N (continued at bottom of story): Your incredibly nice response to my mental meanderings in this story have been amazing and I have taken delight in every single review. Srsly, thank you! And, to all my lovely "guest" reviewers who I can't thank personally: Thank you for your fantastic support! About the story: Just keep in mind that this is ANTI-CANON… where anything is possible up to and including Sookie loosening up a bit in her thinking *and* in her letters. I just hope I came somewhere/anywhere close to capturing Eric and Sookie's "voices." Please see the rest of this painfully/majestically long A/N at the bottom of the chapter if you're still reading at that point. Unbeta'd as always, and thank you for reading.** **

**•~•0•~•**

_My Dear One,_

_In reply to your letter, for which I am more thankful to receive than I can even begin to express:_

_Of course I wish to be friends with you, and it is completely up to you as to which kind of friends we are: friends with benefits, friends who are lovers, betrothed friends who are lovers, eternal friends who are lovers – whichever one is your choice, of course._

_In retrospect, I freely admit that the loss of your friendship has cut deeper and sharper than any blade ever could. With you, and only with you, I could be myself. _

_When we first met, I had to be Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5, but very quickly I found that I could, sometimes, let parts of Eric Northman, the 1000 year old Viking, leak through. With my title and responsibilities, however, I had to be very careful about how much of my true self I could allow anyone, even you, to know, and at the time it bothered me greatly that I wanted…you…any part of you, my love. _

_Continuing on, the fact that I wanted you to know anything about "the real me" caused me a great deal of unease, but I felt a growing need for you to see beyond the Sheriff's imaginary badge. What I did not understand during that time was that I was falling in love with you, so my desire to know you, and to have you know me, made no sense to me._

_During my amnesia, when all the years of necessary posturing and responsibilities were magically gone, you and I were both allowed to finally become acquainted, in my case reacquainted, with the man I used to be. To this day I envy that man; together you and I were simply "Sookie and Eric." While I was still vampire, there was no need for posturing. There were no responsibilities beyond protecting you and myself. And when I remember those hours spent simply talking with you in front of your fireplace, and those other hours spent in your arms, I know I have lived the best nights of my life. Many are the times that those memories, and the mere possibility of having that with you once again, are all that have kept me from meeting the sun._

_How can I say this? I miss laughing with you. Our senses of humor got along quite well, don't you agree? I miss seeing your eyes light up and sparkle during a shared joke. I miss watching you sleep. I miss knowing you watched over me during my day rest. I miss your scent, your warmth, your smile, and yes, even your temper, Fairy Sookie._

_Speaking of which, I never told you the silly, slightly atrocious, little ditty that often weaves through my mind during particularly difficult times:_

_ When Fairy Sookie comes to play_ _ My darkest night turns bright as day._ _ My Pledged beside me come what may_ _ My inner doldrums she does allay,_ _ When Fairy Sookie comes to play._

_But I digress. You have that effect on me to this night. _

_Why?_

_You are the sunshine that banishes the darkness of my eternal night, and I miss…you._

_I will apologize once again, and will continue do to so until you accept my apology, for lacking the courage and the intelligence to speak with you about the impending marriage. You are correct; in my pride and shortsightedness, I truly believed that I could not only prevent it from occurring, but I also believed I could, and should, shield you from knowing of such things in the first place. Obviously none of that happened, and I apologize for not being more open and honest with you. You deserved to know, and I failed you._

_You have every right to your bitterness, anger, and frustration not only regarding everything to do with my Maker's arrangement, but with the implementation and dissolution of OUR pledge, as well. I will NEVER regret pledging to you, Sookie. Never. My only regret is that the actual event didn't receive a ceremony with the solemnity and respect it deserved. I would gladly pledge to you again on any night of your choosing._

_You also have every right to the bitterness, anger and distrust caused by my behavior to you during our last encounters. I will strive until my final death to make that up to you in any way I can._

_Sookie, once again you are entirely correct – trust is indeed a major issue between us, one that must be resolved before we can hope to move forward, as Pam insists the daytime television pseudo-therapists claim._

_Honestly, my love, I do not know how to go about regaining your trust. In the past, I would never have cared enough to even bother trying. As is usual with us, dealing with our relationship is, once again, proving to be a unique dilemma._

_Unfortunately, I can think of only two ways to prove to you that I am worthy of your trust. One way is unacceptable to me, and the other way would, I'm sure, be unacceptable to you._

_But…what are your thoughts on this? How do you think I may regain your trust? What must I do? Tell me, and if it is within my power, it will be done._

_Moving on to better things, I regret absolutely nothing that I have done to help you, and I wish to once again make it clear to you that until I no longer exist, should you ever need anything, it is yours no matter the cost or reason._

_Your friend with every benefit you may desire,_

_Eric_

_PS: The daisies are a product of a system of conservatories established by an associate of mine, a former bartender you may remember by the name of Felicia. That marriage not only turned my entire world upside-down, it also disrupted the lives of all those who owe me fealty. Several vampires chose to leave the area rather than suffer the fallout of my situation, but those most loyal to me chose to stay nearby in case they could be of assistance. Consequently, many were forced to discover other, safer, occupations. It seems that long ago Felicia's family had enjoyed what you call a 'green thumb'. When I gave her a choice of occupations in return for her proven loyalty, she chose to set up a botanical garden of sorts, and included several large greenhouses dedicated to preserving and enhancing local flora. I am certain she would appreciate a visit if you should happen to be in the area; the gardens and greenhouses are adjacent to the royal grounds. You may recognize several varieties of plants native to your own grandmother's garden._

**•~•0•~•**

Eyes and nose red and swollen from squalling like a heartbroken toddler, Sookie smoothed out Eric's latest letter, then gently placed it on the end table as she headed to the bathroom to wash her face.

She'd been shocked to receive his reply to her letter, and of course another huge bouquet of daisies, the very next day after she'd mailed her letter to him. The older male Were who had made the delivery had looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't immediately place him. She'd politely accepted his delivery and gone back inside.

After carefully depositing this newest letter on the table in front of the sofa, she'd replaced the older floral arrangement on her desk with the new one. She fed the kitty, made herself a hot cup of coffee, then sat down to read.

And read.

And read.

And laugh. She just shook her head at Eric's little ditty.

And read more.

At first she'd been stunned at the length of the letter, and a small smile had graced her lips as she perceived his joy in being able to write her back – even if her permission to do so had been implied rather than expressed. She'd tried to feel insulted at his nasty talk at the start of the letter, but the attempt wasn't even half-hearted. Before long, however, all humor left her face.

The more she read, the more she felt. Small but startlingly fierce bouts of angry bitterness still came and went, but were more and more often replaced with a lingering sorrow she hadn't wanted to feel.

Melancholia, a word from the last "Word of the Day" calendar she'd bothered to buy herself a while back, was a stronger and deeper feeling than she'd thought, and she didn't like it one little bit.

Coffee forgotten, she read his letter straight through four times in a row.

As she now gazed at her weepy reflection in the bathroom mirror, she tried to calm herself down by remembering comfy, boring things, since that usually worked in situations like this. After a few minutes she realized that the only boring thing that kept coming to mind was her relationship with Sam – her entire time with the Shifter had been mind-numbing. Staid. It _had_ been comfortable, true, but in a bad way, like shoes that were too worn out rather than comfy like soft, flannel pajamas. Comfortable like being in a rut but the rut was so deep the sides were the only thing visible. The kind of "comfortable" made her miss a certain red 'Vette.

She'd been comfortable with Eric, too, she realized, but comfortable in that "held close to his chest" way, in the "beautiful new coat" and "smooth driveway" and "arms that held her while they fought off the enemies" ways. Comfortable in the way that he "got" her…in the way that she'd _thought_ she understood him, too.

With a sigh she returned to the living room and added another log to the fireplace. As she curled up on her soft, old, comfy sofa, TinaTwo, her young cat who looked remarkably like the first Tina, hopped up for a snuggle. She had no idea exactly how old the little cat was or even where she'd come from; T2 had just appeared one day about three… months… ago…

She gave the purring cat a sidelong glance, then scritched her head as she begged for a petting. After the kitten's mysterious appearance, she'd taken her to the vet for a good check-up, and discovered she was thought to be approximately twelve weeks old…just the right age, she now theorized, to have been thoroughly weaned from her mother and deposited on a suspiciously handy front porch.

Sookie leaned her head back against the back of the sofa with a thump.

"Oh, Eric," she whispered aloud, "what _are_ you doing?"

Neither expecting nor, thankfully, receiving a reply, she absentmindedly continued petting the now not-so-mysteriously-appearing cat as she listened to the non-existent sounds in her home. With the television and other noise makers off, all she could hear were the nighttime sounds of the house settling.

The silence was no longer quite so comforting as she recalled feeling more alone in Sam's company than when she had actually _been_ alone.

_That_ was a problem she certainly never had with Eric around, she thought wryly. Even when he'd been asleep for the day (she'd never thought of him as being dead), his presence was still noticeable, and when he was awake? She laughed out loud – there was no way to ignore Eric freakin' Northman. Even during nights long past when she'd dared to attempt such a thing, it just hadn't been possible to pay him no mind no matter how hard she'd tried.

For the first time since a couple of months after Sam's attack, Sookie cast her mental net out over the yard, then the woods surrounding her house, and listened. She wasn't the least bit surprised to feel the thought signatures of two stationary vampires at the edge of the woods.

While she knew she should feel protected, and she did to an extent, suddenly the house seemed too quiet.

She went to her desk and automatically stroked the newest delivery of lovely fresh daisies. They truly brightened up the old desk, and she found that she didn't mind them at all. After a last lingering glance at all the vases of flowers placed around the room, she withdrew the pretty new stationery set that she'd just happened to find when she'd gone to the mall in Shreveport the previous afternoon.

That she'd bought it at an exclusive stationers emporium wasn't to be discussed.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

**•~•0•~•**

_Eric,_

_I don't know about being friends with you again, and no talking nasty, either, but if we WERE going to be friends, then I'd need to get some things off my chest, and I'd need some answers._

_I'm still unsettled, I guess you'd call it, about that pledge-marriage thing you did with me. I know _now_ why you did it, and I appreciate it, Eric, I do. But I would like to at least have had some say in it. I would like to have _at least_ been asked first! I get why you didn't, but still. That's always bugged me. And I know it's a vampire thing, but just handing some knife over to somebody does not constitute a marriage ceremony to me. It was just too, I don't know, cold. Plain. As much as vampires love their rituals, you'd think y'all would have a huge ceremony full of pomp and pageantry for something as important as a pledge-marriage thing!_

_And Eric? Married people talk. They talk to each other about their day, or in your case, your night. They talk about their pasts and they talk about what they want for the future, and then they make plans __together__ for that future. Neither one of them makes decisions for the other, or for the both of them, especially not without talking about it first. _

_In a true marriage, both people make decisions together, and then they work together to make it happen. TOGETHER. Not you making all the decisions and not even telling me what you're doing. That's not fair, Eric, and it's not right. _

_Although I can't say that in any marriage the responsibilities and the decision-making will always be shared 50/50, but you're supposed try your best to make it equal. And if something big comes up, you TALK to the other one, you talk and you figure it out together. _

_I get that your first priority is always going to be about any and every aspect of safety. And I know that you have over a thousand years' worth of knowledge and experience in pretty much everything, but especially when it comes to not only safety, but vampire safety, too. I get that – I do. But when you don't tell me about things, when you don't talk to me before making big plans, it makes me feel left out. Undervalued. Like you just don't care about how I feel. _

_Looking back, I admit that I was horrible at listening to you the few times you __did__ try to talk to me about important things. I was terrible at taking your advice for what it was and maybe even learning something from you when it came to safety or vampire politics. I'm sure I made bad times even worse, even more stressful for you by not listening, and by not asking the questions I should have asked, and I'm sorry for that. I can't sit here and write out a list of your faults without including my own, can I?_

_You know how I said something about how we're bad for each other? Well, I think this whole communication thing is where we kept going wrong. Times have changed since you've tried to have a relationship with someone, Eric. Men and women are equal now, and have equal power and input when it comes to relationships. I get that you may not be used to that, but that is a problem. I tend to be somewhat hardheaded sometimes, well, according to Gran I used to be, and I doubt I grew out of it. So…there's that._

_Anyway, you're wrong. You didn't fail __me__ with the marriage. That was all your a'hole Maker's fault. The part where you chose to __not__ tell me about it, yes, that was on you, but the rest of it was his fault, not yours, so stop blaming yourself. Now that I think back, and now that you're actually telling me about it, I can see that you worked and thought as hard as you possibly could to find a way out of it, and I'm really sorry that it didn't work. I can't imagine what all of that was like for you. You didn't deserve to be treated like that by any of them. _

_I don't know if telling me about it would have helped at all, but it surely wouldn't have hurt. As you most likely know, Mr. Cataliades handled my divorce. Well, during one of my meetings with him, I'd asked him if anything could be done about your situation. He said no, that there wasn't anything (legal) that could have been done to prevent it unless you had invaded someone else's territory and became a king yourself so that you could have voided the contract as your own king, and that nothing could be done once the marriage took effect. I'm just glad that you're finally out of that whole deal. _

_You didn't deserve that. We didn't deserve that._

_Now, I have a question I need for you to answer, and be completely honest with me. _

_Why did you threaten to turn me when you knew, and know, that being turned against my will is the last thing I'd ever want? What was that all about? You have to have known that I would hate you forever, literally __for forever__, if you ever did that to me. So, what was going on with you?_

_Sookie_

_PS: Stop sending daisies. I love them but it looks like there's greenhouse in here already. If you have to send something, send firewood. It's cold. What other kinds of flowers does she have, anyway?_

**•~•0•~•**

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

King Eric Northman kicked back on one of the new matching leather sofas in his private office in the Palace. Upon rising, he had been overjoyed, and indescribably relieved, to find another letter from his Sookie waiting on his desk. Having one of his most trusted Weres, a cousin of Tray Dawson's, in fact, stalk her mailbox for outgoing mail addressed to him had paid off handsomely. He had not had to endure a nerve-wracking wait for her reply to be delivered by the local postal service. Postal employees worked very hard but in this instance, days mattered more than his patience could bear.

He had already tolerated his evening's repast…had already responded to the most pressing missives and emails selected and handed over to him by his highly-qualified second…now all that was left was the staring at the letter.

Unlike last time, he wasn't afraid to read Sookie's letter. Instead of giving into the temptation, however, he chose to savor the delicious temptation…the glorious anticipation.

Finally, with fingers shaking from excitement and hope instead of dread and despair, he took the letter in hand and raised it to his nose. An arrogantly self-satisfied grin curled his lips when he realized that the envelope and the contents within smelled new.

Years of storage in her grandmother's desk had saturated the other stationery with the soft, older scent of wood, dust, and slightly sweet vanillin. This new set held the brasher, harsher chemical odors of paper manufactured much more recently.

Eagerly but with carefully controlled movements he used his bejeweled, sword-shaped letter opener – naturally a gift from Pam – to slice open the letter, and was joyfully amazed at its length.

Good – he'd gotten her started talking…that was half the battle. His Sookie was fierce when it was necessary, but when it came to affairs of the heart, her courage inevitably failed her when she needed it the most.

He had long considered that the death of her parents at such an early age had somewhat damaged her ability to trust people. In her young life, the two people she was supposed to be able to depend on the most had, to all intents and purposes and through no fault of their own, "abandoned" her. She was then left with a loving but elderly grandmother who was mostly out of touch with her granddaughter's reality, a somewhat caring but flighty older brother, and the "gift" of being able to see all the deceptions that should have been hidden from such a young girl. That her mother had disparaged her gift so painfully, and that her great uncle had been a pedophile, didn't help.

Eric rose and began pacing as he considered all the trials and emotional upheavals Sookie had suffered before he had even met her. Even though Adele had loved her granddaughter, the fact remained that she'd lied by omission to Sookie every day of her young life. He could only imagine how much easier things might have been for her if Adele had simply told her about her fairy heritage. Instead, Adele had been prideful, choosing to hide her perceived shame instead of being loving enough to help Sookie understand just how very special she actually is.

His hands fisting in impotent fury as he paced, Eric angrily considered the disrespect shown to Sookie not only by the barely sentient "good citizens" of Bon Temps but by her own moronic brother and useless fairy relatives as well. Once again it pissed him off that there was little to nothing he could do about how she'd been treated in the past, but her future?

His face hardened in determination.

If she could find it in her heart to forgive him and to give him a fair chance, not only would all those who owed him fealty bow low before her, but he would place her by his side for as long as she wished.

He may be King, but she would be _his_ Queen.

But, his shoulders drooped, how to make it so?

How could he prove his honesty, his sorrow, and his all-consuming regret at his ill-chosen words?

Was there even a way _to_ go about proving to her that while he had, shamefully, meant the words when he spoke them, the inclination behind them was no longer there?

How could he possibly convince her that his threat to make her worst nightmare come true was no longer valid?

What should he tell her? What _could_ he tell her?

He sighed. The truth, of course; he could give only the truth to Sookie.

He thought back to those disastrous final encounters and cringed yet again. He couldn't believe he'd said those things to her. Of all the words he could have chosen to say, he had to threaten to take away her sun – the one thing she feared above all.

In his heart of hearts, he knew he'd been pushing her away, punishing her for not using that damn cluviel dor to solve their problems, but in retrospect, even if she _had_ used it, even if she had gotten them out of the forced marriage, he knew their relationship would never have lasted. It had been too unstable, and there were too many issues still festering between them.

He had negated her strengths and often her right to know and decide for herself, and had considered his love for her a weakness. She had devalued his strengths and more often than not distrusted his motives, and had considered her own love for him untrue.

But still…they had loved, and loved well.

And now, miracle of all miracles – he had escaped from the enforced separation from his Sookie _during_ her lifetime! And she was, however reluctantly, _still_ speaking to him, metaphorically at least.

But now he had to face the music. She had the right to know.

Somehow, he had to accept his full blame; he had to put all of his remorse, his shameful dishonor, and his fear and his sorrow, down on a mere piece of paper, and hope and pray to Freya that the one who held his heart would read it…that she would read it, heed it, understand it, and forgive him.

Freya help him, he silently keened. His true penance was about to begin.

This night when he rose, he had risen to something sadly lacking during the majority of his undeath: hope. His Sookie had responded yet again to his contact, and with more grace and honor than he'd have expected if he'd allowed himself to hope for such a thing.

His shoulders bowed, though, as he realized that he had no right to expect her understanding, much less her forgiveness, not after his threats and debasements to her.

But he was not a quitter.

Drawing on the strength of his need, his faith, and his ancestry, he took a deep, unnecessary breath, picked up his pen, and began the most soul-wracking exposition of his undeath.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

**•~•0•~•**

_Dear Sookie_

_My cowardly threat to you was seated in the deepest, darkest, most terrifying fear I had ever known. _

_I was losing you, inch by inch, night by night, and something in me, some instinct, rose up screaming, fiercely demanding that I keep you to me at any cost. _

_You are the one, Sookie. You are my life. My heart. My light. _

_Losing you meant that I lost everything worthy about myself. Anything that was good or kind or warm would be lost without you, and I knew that. My survival instincts knew that, and the beast that resides within me desperately wanted, needed, to rise up and take you, keep you, keep you with me forever. _

_Desperation. Fear. Terror. Pain. Anger. Frustration. Panic. _

_The deepest, darkest, most possessively primal part of me almost took over during that time, and that is what you saw._

_I was at my weakest, and you will never know how furiously I fought with myself to leave you with your life, your sun, knowing as I did that I would most likely never see you again._

_You will never know the cold, black depths to which I descended when that shackle of a marriage was thrust upon my shoulders, and I realistically knew you to be lost to me forever. _

_That I rid myself of that prison DURING your lifetime…you cannot imagine the relief, the joy, and the incessant, desperate hope that I feel. _

_That you are still willing to communicate with me on _any_ level? However unwarranted it may be, my heart soars._

_I will do whatever it takes to prove to you beyond a shadow of any possible doubt that you can trust me implicitly. _

_Unfortunately, as I have mentioned before, I can think of only two ways to prove to you that I am worthy of your trust. One way is unacceptable to me, and the other way would, I'm sure, be unacceptable to you._

_But make no mistake, my love. I still and will always want you by my side, and if for any reason you were to ASK to join me in eternity, I would not hesitate to "bite first and ask questions later," so to speak. _

_It will not happen, however, until or unless you give me your express permission. _

_I want you by my side. I need you by my side. _

_But only by your own choice shall I have you._

_I love you, Sookie. It seems I always have. I know I always will._

_Yours any way you will have me, _

_Eric_

**•~•0•~•**

Shaking her head while muttering about "that damn Viking", yet completely failing to hide her smile, Sookie told the same older Were the location where she wanted him to dump the massive truck load of perfectly sized fire wood. While the two younger Weres who had arrived with him stacked the wood, he handed her a vase of different flowers, beautifully scented heirloom roses suspiciously like the ones her gran had planted in the yard eons ago, four packages, and a letter.

After extending a gracious invitation to the Weres to come in for some hot coffee, which they graciously declined, she went back inside and placed the four packages of different sizes on her dining room table.

Sookie ate lunch and cleaned her kitchen, and looked at the letter and the packages. She vacuumed her living room, and dusted, and looked at the letter and the packages. She started a load of laundry, cleaned her bathroom, and then opened the packages. She laughed at herself for her eagerness even as she eyeballed the letter with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

The new cranberry red coat, an exact copy of the one he'd given her so long ago, brought many tears to her eyes.

The next package revealed winter gloves, several pairs of thick socks, house slippers, a thick robe, and several pairs of thick woven pajama sets…all in cranberry red.

The third box revealed a winter weight silk cranberry red dress complete with matching sets of nowhere-near-winter-weight cranberry red lingerie.

The fourth box contained a thick wrap perfect for Louisiana winter evenings…in cranberry red.

Intrigued, perplexed, and just plain curious, Sookie quickly opened the letter without even making herself wait while she fixed herself a drink.

Later, shocked, confused, and distraught…with her anger and bitterness bluntly destroyed and fragile hope painfully resurfacing, Sookie did the only things she could think of at that moment.

She wrote Eric back, then politely got drunk off her ass.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

**•~•0•~•**

_Eric,_

_What did you mean by this: _

_"Unfortunately, as I have mentioned before, I can think of only two ways to prove to you that I am worthy of your trust. One way is unacceptable to me, and the other way would, I'm sure, be unacceptable to you."_

_Tell me more._

_Sookie _

**•~•0•~•**

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****A/N Pt. 2: I'm relieved that y'all seem to like having Eric and Sookie write letters to each other. I can just see that having them write letters will make them both stop and think (while writing) to avoid saying anything that might antagonize the other (I'm lookin' at you, Sookie…) or just come out wrong (Eric? Yeah, you…). You know how impetuous those kids can be… And as for canon? *pffft* I'm just VERY thankful that y'all seem to be ok with me combining personality points and events from both TB and SVM into this one story. (And the part about the toothbrush in the last chapter? Yeah, I kinda did that to an ex…) Let me know what you think, and if you want the third and final chapter. If you do, I'm going to TRY to have it up by Valentine's night, but no promises. Real life is rather hectic and isn't playing well with my writing time.****


	3. Chapter 3

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY/NIGHT!**

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****A/N: Go make yourself a cup of something warm and comforting…maybe change into your jammies and put on those comfy bunny slippers…grab a tissue…kick back, and enjoy:****

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After popping to the end of her drive to place some bills and her "what did you mean by this" reply in the mailbox, Sookie escorted her hangover back into the kitchen and continued trying to drown it in coffee. A little while and some pain relievers later, she decided that she was going to live after all, and bravely prepared herself some toast. She might be a bit younger than she used to be, but hangovers were still awful.

Deciding to keep the morning from being a complete loss, she took another cup of survival into the living room and sat on the sofa to peruse the latest foundation reports from Mr. C. While she did so, she made the conscious decision to keep her mental net focused on her mailbox just to see if her suspicions were correct.

An hour later, as she was penciling in recommendations for more anonymous donations to several local libraries and instructions to expand on her youth center in Bon Temps, she caught the reddish signature of a Were approaching quickly, stopping, then departing just as quickly. Intensely curious and highly suspicious, she popped herself out to her mailbox, and, just as she suspected, the bills she was mailing out were still there and the flag was still raised, but her letter to Eric was gone. With a smirk, she popped herself back to the sofa.

Gazing down at the list of her charitable activities and the updates the firm had provided, she couldn't help but grin. It seemed _King_ Eric Northman had about as much patience as _Sheriff_ Eric Northman used to have – not much.

It did her part-fairy heart good to know that he was just as affected by whatever was going on between them as she was. Realizing that she was about to go a daydreaming trip, she set the files aside. Her amended motto, "with great money comes great possibilities", floated through her mind, but on some days the files looked better on her desk than in her hand.

Her inheritance from Niall's had been a huge and somewhat frightening shock at first, but with Mr. C's gentle guidance, it hadn't taken her long to figure out what she wanted to do with the monetary portion of it. Since that time, libraries in Bon Temps and several surrounding towns had received massive donations. Bon Temps' elementary, middle, and high schools had also received new libraries and new computer sciences lab, all of which were kept up to date, and every year five "mediocre but with potential" high school students received full scholarships to the local community college.

She had been determined to help out students who were intelligent but who had some other difficulty in their lives preventing them from being able to reach their full potential in an academic environment…students like her own self back in the day. While they might not be telepaths, they still deserved a chance for a better life, and helping to provide them with better educational opportunities was one way that she could help. For whatever reason, Niall had seen fit to provide much more than adequately for her future, and she was glad to pay it forward.

Her friend Tara, now happily single and an excellent mother of two adorable brats, was handsomely paid to manage a series of clothing stores and nail/tanning salons carrying the latest, safest, tanning equipment. She didn't know that the name of the company she worked for, SBS, was short for Sookie Brigant Stackhouse. She thoroughly enjoyed spoiling Tara's kids, but never once felt the need to procreate herself.

After her first few months with Sam, she'd scheduled a brief consultation with Dr. Ludwig. With the parameters of her heritage in mind, it had taken the good doctor a couple of days to concoct the right mixture, but thereafter every three months Sookie gladly received her birth control shot.

She'd been surprised by how easily she'd released to the universe her dreams of sitting on her front porch watching the sun set while surrounded by her grandchildren. As much as she'd wanted that, she knew it not only wasn't practical, but extremely selfish, too. There was no way she could put a child of her through all she'd endured. Whether or not her telepathy was passed on to the next generation, any child of hers would automatically be suspected of having "special skills" by the supe world, and she couldn't justify exposing any child to those risks.

Sam wanted kids, though, and his increasing noticeable disappointment with his failed attempts had made her start feeling slightly suspicious about exactly _why_ he wanted kids. Was it that he wanted children in a general sense, something he'd never mentioned before considering his then current fascination with the subject, or was it that he wanted to make kids with her…specifically, telepathic kids?

She didn't know, and she didn't want to find out. Family had been very important to her, but she was determined to be the last of her own line. She was also going to definitely be keeping an keep an ear out for any bastards bred by her whore-dog brother.

While Sookie and her brother Jason had tried to keep close to each other, both had finally realized that they didn't actually have all that much in common. In the end, Jason's disapproval of her divorce from Sam had been the painfully final straw on their already strained relationship. Instead of supporting her decision, he had repeatedly foisted his unappreciated and ill-considered advice on her to the point that she had eventually told him that if he couldn't talk to her about anything else, then to not bother talking to her at all.

His love for her was conditional upon her living within what he decided were acceptable boundaries, and Sookie had had enough of that to last her a lifetime. She missed her brother, but not the man he'd become.

In a bittersweet way, Hoyt had been a better brother to her, especially after Mrs. Fortenberry's timely demise. On her behalf, lots of casseroles, pies, and gossip had been served after her service, and life had then quickly settled down quite nicely without her unnecessary input. Everyone adored Hoyt's ex-stripper girlfriend from Monroe even if her presence in his life was suspected to have been the unofficial cause of Maxine's massive coronary. The pies after the service really had been delicious.

Chuckling to herself, Sookie put away the foundation paperwork and fought against a subtle, inexplicable impatience. Since she had no pressing errands or appointments that day, she decided to put her time to great use and took a nap.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Eric was in a situation that rarely existed, but when it did, it invariably involved Sookie. Eric…was in a quandary. Once again.

Sookie had finally asked about his deviously vague observation, but what was he to do now? How should he answer the question now that it'd been asked?

He'd been waiting on pins and needles to see if she would be curious enough to actually bring it up. That she was curious to begin with, much less curious enough to actually ask him about it, was news most excellent. So much of his future depended on this exact thing.

Eric heated himself up yet another in an endless supply of bagged blood. His vampire instincts missed the chase and capture of his natural food supply, but his "more delicate sensibilities", he snorted to himself, detested being that close to the foul stench of his normal prey.

Humans certainly had much better bathing options now than in the past, but unfortunately nothing hid the stench of slow deaths by chemicals introduced into their bodies in a fanciful bid to escape reality. He often wondered why some humans chose to make their lives worse by giving it away to small-time drug lords, then turned right around and tried to make their skewed realities seem better by taking even more of those same drugs. But in the end, he didn't really care. He totally supported the concept of Darwinism.

At least one of the benefits of being king was having at his disposal the cleanest blood available. His royal grounds contained housing for screened donors, but he refused to house anyone of that sort on his property since he wasn't comfortable with keeping a herd of humans on hand. In his opinion, vampires could catch their own dinner, drink from bags, or lift a bottle. Any visiting vampires could bring their own or drink what was offered; he didn't care which. Somehow he didn't think Sookie would mind _his_ version of vampire hospitality.

Sookie…

How to approach his Sookie…

He pondered as he paced barefoot, his black silk robe billowing with each step.

If she was curious enough to ask, it would mean that she really _was_ interested in pursuing at least some sort of a relationship with him. If she hadn't asked, it would have meant that she wasn't ready yet, that he would need to shelve his need and impatience, and try his hand in other ways on another night. He wouldn't give up, but he would have had to pull back, going with the theory that you can't miss something if it isn't gone.

But, to his everlasting and almost painful relief, _she had asked_.

All evidence of any sort of stoicism was gone from his demeanor in the privacy of his chambers. Here, he was free to pace, free to gloat or think or swear or anything else to his dead heart's content. Once this area had been completed, no one save a highly glamoured and witch-spelled maid was allowed in to clean once a week. Even his weekly supplies of blood from a vampire-controlled and screened blood bank were handled only by his Second.

What to do…what to do…

Ruthlessly determined to be realistic, even if Sookie had asked that all-important question, it by no means meant that he'd been forgiven. It only meant he was being allowed to plead the rest of his case, and offer a logical solution to the trust problem.

He took up his pen as he paced by his desk, and rolled the platinum piece between his fingers. Thus far this pen had provided him with the ability to carefully chose his words for maximum truth and effect. This pen had saved him from saying too much or saying the right thing the wrong way. This pen had given him the time to think about his words before he sent them her way.

This pen had helped bring his Sookie back, however distantly, into his unlife. He just might frame this pen if his wishes came true.

He sat and wrote.

And wrote.

Ten crumpled pages later, he finally finished.

But…this was not a letter that could simply be delivered by another party. The contents of this short missive were too important. He would think on it during the night and plan something appropriate.

As he dressed for that evening's serving of kingly pap and bullshit, an urgent call came in from Rasul's capable yet boring replacement. He rolled his eyes. Apparently yet other fool and his rag tag band of vampire desperadoes had decided to mount a 'dramatic' takeover of the new monarchy.

He sighed as he grabbed his phone to call, among others, Thalia and Jessica to his side. Thalia would have his head if he neglected to invite her to any sort of conflict, and as supportive and helpful as Jessica had been during the rebuilding of his kingdom, she deserved to participate in the excitement of a small skirmish as well.

Although young and still needing his mentoring in many ways, she had surprised him. Beneath her genial and usually mild personality lived a delightfully vicious streak which he had carefully honed and nurtured. She'd been a bit timid at first, but it hadn't taken as long as he'd thought for her to blossom into a very capable vampire. She was a natural at hand-to-hand combat, took to the sword as if born to it, and was an excellent shot. Sweet, tame, "mainstreaming" Jessica was proving to be an enthusiastic and highly-skilled killing machine.

Just another night in paradise, he thought to himself as he grabbed his sword and flew to battle. He hoped _this_ one would last more than an hour.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Unaccountably disheartened by the whole lot of absolutely nothing that had happened the night before, not that she'd been expecting anything, the next morning Sookie rose, showered, and proceeded to get on with her day.

While she could easily have chosen to rest on her expensive laurels, she much preferred to put her education to use in the running of her foundation. Mr. C's team did a fine job of keeping all the legalities in order and the interest mounting up, but she enjoyed doing her own research on new projects to see if they needed her particular brand of support.

This afternoon she was scheduled to investigate a new "crisis support" non-profit just starting up over in Minden. Times were hard everywhere, and she was glad to help. She was already providing the majority of anonymous financial support for seven different "community help" organizations, and was likely to add an eighth one to her list that evening…if the place met her "no discrimination of any sort allowed" standards.

Last minute review of their financials complete, Sookie headed out to her two-year-old Cadillac Escalade. She missed her ancient yellow beater, but when it had finally died a painful death, dear old Sam had nagged her into replacing it with a boring compact. It, too, had served her well, but had never felt like "her" car.

Then one day she'd passed one of those big, beautiful Escalades on the road, and she'd fallen in love. After a bit of research, the next day she found the nearest dealership and went and bought herself one. She had been so nervous and excited – it was the first completely unnecessary and exorbitant purchase she'd allowed herself. She figured that not only would Niall have approved of such a luxurious purchase, but that she deserved it. She had only wished that her beloved Gran had been around so that she could have literally shared the wealth.

Although she was a billionaire several times over, after general maintenance and making expensive improvements on her home, she still maintained a rather modest lifestyle. She'd had a new roof and wrap-around porch put on the house, and had installed a new heating and cooling system even though she loved using the fireplace on cool and cold evenings. The old house had needed new wiring and pipes, and she'd loved painting all the walls brighter, cheerier colors. It had taken some time, but she'd enjoyed finishing the attic and converting part of it into a very rarely used home office with en suite bathroom. The rest of the attic remained dedicated to hiding the family's "seen better days" possessions.

Only once had she gone down into Eric's cubbyhole, and that was to check on its condition after a particularly rainy hurricane had blown through. After seeing that it had sustained no damage, which had somehow required her to sit on the bed for over an hour lost in her memories, she'd stripped the bed and dusted the small area. She convinced herself that the reason she remade the bed with clean sheets was that she never knew if she might need the safety of Eric's hidden room. On that weak premise, she'd hauled down a backpack loaded with bottled water, energy bars with a long expiration date, and a couple of her books…that she'd placed beside his on the nightstand.

She hadn't gone back down since.

Once she reached her intended destination, she concentrated then swept her hand over her body. Her strong fairy glamour immediately changed her appearance into that of a woman curiously resembling her fairy cousin Claudine. During the few times she'd chosen to mask her appearance when doing her own investigative work, she'd chosen to model her new look on her beloved cousin as both a remembrance and a nod to her heritage.

It didn't take long for her to see that this newest community resource center was worthy of her investment, and she was soon on her way to Mr. C's office in Shreveport. She was a bit surprised by how tempted she was to accidently to drive by a certain converted plantation, but firmly resisted the pull.

When she finally returned home, she automatically checked her mailbox. It had been empty save for a lovely flier for a local furniture store that went out of business several times a year. She was intensely disappointed to find no letter or flowers…or wood… on her front porch, either.

Oh, well, he's a king with kingly things to do, she figured with an unintentional pout. Of course she noticed that the sun was setting as she fed the cat, and it was depressingly dark by the time she finished her boring salad for dinner.

Unbidden doubts and suspicions had started to surface, but instead of moping, she planned out her evening then got to it. She took her evening shower, then spent some quality time playing with T2. She painted her fingernails…then her toenails…then checked her emails. The latest one from Amelia was ignored, just like all the others she'd sent.

Amelia had just been doing as Sookie asked when she'd brewed up the potion to break the bond, but she'd also been just a little too excited about interfering in her and Eric's relationship. After that, Sookie had started paying more attention to not only Amelia's thoughts, but to the intent behind them, as well. Something about the little witch started feeling "off", and Sookie had wisely decided to start putting more and more distance between them. She never detected anything truly seditious or disparaging, but her intuition was telling her to ease herself out of the witch's sphere of influence, so she heeded her own instincts.

Her friendship with Octavia, however, was flourishing right along. That ancient witch was more technologically advanced than she, herself, was, and they enjoyed lively email discussions about everything under the sun.

Afterward she built up a nice fire, made herself some hot chocolate, grabbed up T2, then flipped aimlessly through the television channels until she found one of her favorite old black-and-white romantic tearjerkers, _The Ghost and Mrs. Muir_. No one came by bearing letters or flowers or wood.

She couldn't remember when time had ever passed so slowly.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

With the sun rising in half an hour, Eric had to move quickly to complete his shower, touch up some final details, and go to rest.

Last evening's amateur revolt had been squashed disappointingly fast – Thalia had muttered under her breath for hours afterward – but the annoyingly thorough investigation afterward had brought to light a slightly more serious problem.

The small band of delusional vampires had been egged on by another group with their own agenda. Those dissidents were gathered into a larger, stronger, better-organized and better-backed group, and were a somewhat more credible threat…"were" being the key word.

This night, along with half of last night, had been spent searching out those individuals and anyone associated with them. Through a little time and effort, and a couple of convenient explosions, not a one was left to see another moonrise. Eric's large network of loyal friends and allies, and highly-paid Weres, had once again proven their loyalty. Thalia's blood thirst had been moderately relieved.

Now that he'd stamped out yet another supposed threat to his throne, he was ready to rest and contemplate exactly how he was going to answer Sookie's question.

With a smirk engendered to hide his own nervous anticipation from himself, he reached for his phone. Over three years too late, yet too soon, he was going to do what had to be done.

He sank into his day sleep with a smile gracing his firm lips.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

All day Sookie had unintentionally felt as though she were waiting on something, but she couldn't figure out why. She would clean her house in short, energetic bursts, then sit on the sofa for a while listlessly flipping through pages of her latest novel. She even cleaned the already spotless attic, then returned to take up her fruitless watch on the sofa. She cleaned the litter boxes again, the one in the laundry room and the other in the spare bedroom, determined as always to prevent the smell of a cat's bathroom from pervading the house.

By late afternoon she was a nervous wreck but couldn't pinpoint why. She just knew that, once again, no one came by bearing letters or flowers or wood. Or coats. Or comfy slippers. She looked down at her warm, toasty toes and smiled. She didn't know what was going on or what to think, but was glad her feet were happy.

Surely she hadn't scared him off just by asking him what he meant?

Maybe she had, she thought with a grimace, then rearranged her thinking. If Eric was one to be put off by a mere question, a question about something he himself had brought up more than once, then _she_ could sprout wings and fly. Glancing back over her shoulders just to be sure – she was a fairy, after all – she caught sight of T2 stalking the feather duster, and had a good laugh.

That distraction was just what she needed, she thought as she levitated the duster while the kitty chased it. There was every possibility that, realistically, Eric was just caught up in king business and that his delay in getting back to her probably had nothing to do with _her_ at all.

A bit more lighthearted after her little chat with herself, she played with the cat for a while longer then took a shower to clean up after having cleaned all day. She took the time to apply her favorite lotion, a sultry blend of lily of the valley and jasmine, and threw on her favorite comfortable jeans and warm, red, v-necked sweater.

After that, she fixed herself a nice dinner, wrote out a grocery list for shopping the next day, then once again piled up on the comfy sofa, but chose to read instead of watching television. T2 curled up on her lap, as was her innate right as queen of the house, and purred.

Forty-five minutes after first dark, there was a knock on her door.

**•0~*~*~*~*~*~•0•~*~*~*~*~*~0•**

Eric slowed down to turn onto Sookie's long driveway, and allowed the memories to flood back into his mind. With his vampire vision he noted every single change as he all-but coasted along, noticing more changes as he approached her house. As it had been so very long since his last visit, he decided to park out front.

Slowly, savoring the bittersweet experience, he exited his vehicle and quietly shut the car door before approaching the steps leading up to her front porch. After taking a huge, unnecessary breath, he slowly ascended the steps. Her light, sweet scent, tinged with more fairy than he remembered, led the way.

Memories, so many memories, some good, some bad and some horrible, passed before his eyes. Echoes of conversations long past soothed and tortured his ears while his eyes remembered the light of his beautifully temperamental fairy.

Holding absolutely still as only a vampire can, he listened to the few winter's night noises in the surrounding area, then narrowed his scope to hear the two hearts beating within the house. One, smaller and quite rapid, obviously belonged to the cat that resembled the one murdered so long ago.

The other, the most precious sound in his world, belonged to the most precious person in his world…that beloved, irreplaceable person who was just inside that door.

Seeking wisdom, courage, and fortitude, Eric did as he was taught by his human father so many lifetimes ago. He closed his eyes, threw back his head, inhaled deeply, and concentrated on centering himself. What worked for one type of battle must surely work for another…

With strong determination firmly subduing a remarkable case of annoyingly human nerves, Eric knocked on Sookie's front door as he felt the magical proof of his rescinded invitation. He couldn't, wouldn't, blame her for that even though its past necessity greatly saddened his heart. He heard her light-footed approach, and stepped back two paces when she flipped on the porch light.

She opened the door, and the look of complete shock on her lovely face gave him a much-needed moment of humor before the youth of that lovely face stunned him.

"Sookie," he gasped quietly, his shock evident in his voice and in his slightly widened blue eyes.

"Eric?" The gently questioning tone of her voice brought him back to himself.

He cleared his throat.

"If you have a moment, I would like to answer your question now." His eyes eagerly roamed over her figure as he took in the few changed wrought over the past years.

She looked…perfect.

From what he could tell, it wasn't just her face that had taken a few steps back toward youth. Her body seemed just as young and toned as she'd been the last time he'd lain with her. While they "why's" were intriguing, he'd love to find out the old-fashioned way if what he was seeing really was the truth. All in good time, he commanded his rising libido.

Sookie stared in amazement. Logic dictated that since he was vampire there wouldn't be any changes visible in his appearance, but he still managed to take her breath away. Still just as tall, still just as handsome, still just as unconsciously suave and debonair, Eric was still…Eric.

Blond hair gleaming in the porch light, blue eyes as fathomless as a blue sky at dusk, the only thing missing was his trademark leering grin. The serious sadness on his beautiful face suddenly made her miss that detested smirk.

She attempted to clear her thoughts, then nodded her head. Hell yeah she wanted that question answered!

Eric took a third step back and gestured for her to join him. He didn't dare ask for entry, not yet.

She chewed a second on her upper lip, then threw habitual caution to the wind and stepped out of the comfort of her house, and joined him on the porch.

As soon as the screen door closed behind her, he withdrew an envelope from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and placed it on the nearby table. Then, to Sookie's surprised, he shrugged the jacket itself off his broad frame and held it up for her to put on.

"I don't want you to catch a chill," he said, his voice slightly husky. She was so close that her scent and her warmth were having its usual effect on his body.

His jacket, many times too large for her smaller frame, hung low in her hips and the arms were so long they hid her hands, but she was warm. Subconsciously she sniffed, inhaling the beloved masculine scent of his skin, then sniffed again as memories invaded her poor, bewildered brain.

A moment later an envelope appeared before her eyes. Instead of taking it, she looked up and saw Eric watching her, his eyes suddenly apprehensive and weary.

"The answer to your question," he stated, his voice strained. He held the envelope up a bit higher.

Hands suddenly shaking as she shoved the long leather sleeves up, Sookie finally took it, and broke the glue seal on the back. She absently noted that Eric had turned away and taken several steps away from her as she removed the letter.

**•~•0•~•**

_My Dearest Sookie,_

_To answer your question, I can only think of two ways to truly prove to you that you can trust me completely._

_The first way is not acceptable to me as it would require me to remain apart from you and simply let you die a natural, human death. This would provide you with the ultimate proof that you could trust me not to turn you without your permission. Of course, by that time there could be no "us", and my existence would then be meaningless._

_The second way, the one I favor by far, would be for me to Bond with you, and you to Bond with me, preferably permanently, but a Bond of any sort with you would be more than I could hope._

_With a full Bond between us, you would immediately sense if I were to ever lie to you. My every emotion would be yours to read and know._

_A true Bond between us would allow you to fully understand the depth of my love for you._

_A true Bond between us would allow you to fully understand the regret I have for the things I have said and done to you._

_Whatever you choose, know that I humbly beg your forgiveness, and plead for a chance to earn your trust, and your love, once more._

_You are my light, and I miss you._

_Yours in any way you will have me,_

_Eric_

**•~•0•~•**

When she finished reading his letter for the third time, Sookie's hands were shaking so badly that she could barely make out the words.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, chin trembling, she lowered the letter…to see Eric on his knees before her, head and shoulders bowed.

Hastily scrubbing the fallen tears from her cheeks, she sniffed, and folded his letter and stuck it in her jeans pocket.

Then she gambled on the biggest risk of her life.

She took the half step needed to allow Eric to rest his head just below her breasts. That Eric, tall, arrogant, Alpha-male Eric, would lower himself to his knees before her and beg by written word and deed for her forgiveness took her breath away, broke her heart, and mended it.

If he could be brave enough to expose himself like that, to take such a huge risk to his pride and his heart, then she could be brave enough to do the same.

Eric had waited until her first tear had fallen to kneel before her, but kneel before her he did. The wait while she read was excruciating, but the wait after she'd finished reading was even more agonizing.

He'd felt her take a step toward him, had felt his forehead touching her, but fear kept his eyes closed. He comforted himself with her sweet, feminine scent, her natural bouquet enhanced with lily of the valley and jasmine.

When her hands lightly touched his head then pulled him closer into her warmth, he could no longer hold in his tears of relief and remorse.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," he whispered over and over, his voice gruff and cracking. He was broken but determined to win her forgiveness.

Finally, her own voice choked with emotion, she whispered the words that he would later swear saved his undead life, "I forgive you."

She held him even closer and added, "Me too, Eric, me too." He caught her as her knees gave way, and lowered her gently to the wooden planks of the porch.

He gathered her in his arms, her face naturally coming to rest in the crook of his neck, and allowed himself to weep. This closeness with her, no matter how painful, was more than he'd dared hope. When she took him in her arms, he sobbed.

In the soft, warm light on that porch on that cold Louisiana night, they each held the other close, each giving the other their strength as together they mourned time lost, trust lost, and love lost.

Eventually realizing that it was still too cold for her to remain outdoors for so very long, Eric gently swept her up into his arms and rose.

She gazed up into his face, and saw for the first time the bloody tears that had fallen down his cheeks. She cupped his face with her hand and smoothed her thumb over some of the bloody trails on his cheek. She smiled a twisted grimace when she only succeeded in making a mess.

"It's too cold to keep you out here long," he stated quietly as he pressed his cheek into her palm. "I need to get you back inside."

His statement, his invitation to her to invite him in, was sweetly open.

Sookie didn't even bother castigating herself. She was held safely in his arms, and while she had no doubt they'd still have their share of problems in the future, for right this minute, she was finally home.

"Eric Northman, won't you please come in?"

His smile in response to her invitation brightened up his entire face. Eyes sparkling and with a grin so wide his cheeks ached, he held her close while she opened the screen door, while she closed the front door, and while he sat them down on her sofa that he remembered so well.

Unable to let her go, he simply sat her sideways on his lap and helped her to remove his jacket…then promptly took her into his arms once again. He rested his forehead against her hair, inhaling her enhanced scent and placing a soft kiss to her crown every now and then.

She was in his lap, a wish granted that he hadn't even thought to make, and he was going to make he most of it.

Content as never before, Sookie leaned into his chest and did something she hadn't done since the last time she was truly in Eric's arms: she snuggled.

About an hour later, an hour filled with nothing more than simply holding each other and healing various wounds, Sookie grunted a pout. Eric responded with an inquisitive noise, nowhere near ready to let her go.

With a disgruntled tone, Sookie announced that she needed a human moment. Eric laughed, a deep, full-bodied rumble, as he helped her to stand.

"I'll be back in a minute," she told him, scared that he'd be gone when she returned.

"I'll be right here," he reassured her, dead certain that nothing but the sun could tear him from her side as long as she wanted his presence.

With a smile she left the room. Once she was finished her human moment, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the sink as she washed her hands. Upon frank examination, she realized that she appeared both hopeful and scared to death. She splashed her face with cold water to get rid of the tear tracks, and heated Eric up a washcloth with warm water. His bloody tears had dried in her hair, and she couldn't care less.

When she returned to the living room, he was exactly where she'd left him. His gaze followed her every step until she stood before him. She straddled his lap, her knees on each side of his thighs, and met his inquisitive gaze as he rested his big hands on her hips.

"Close your eyes," she gently ordered, then proceeded to wash away every dried tear from his face…and neck. When finished, she tossed the now-pink cloth to the table, and going on instinct, took him in her arms and snuggled into his shoulder.

"Ah, Lover, you're going to be the death of me," he whispered into her ear.

Shaking her head side to side, lightly rubbing her lips along his neck, she quietly disagreed with him. "Nope, not if I can help it."

As expected, he softly chuckled, then tightened his arms about her small frame.

Those were the last words spoken for the next several hours. Each was content to simply hold and be held by the other, giving and accepting the healing comfort that only the other could provide.

An hour before the sun would rise, Eric reluctantly pulled back to gaze down into his Sookie's face.

Before he could speak, she decided to use her bravery and speak some words of her own first.

"Eric, I want us to take it slow. I want to get to know you, the real you, who you are now, and I want you to get to know who I am now, too. Is that ok?"

He couldn't believe the worried look in her eyes. How could there be any doubt?

"Of course, Lover! We have so much to discuss, so much to sort out and settle between us. There's nothing I would like more!" His exclamation was a bit loud considering the quiet of the house. "Well, there is something…" he added, his words trailing off suggestively, his voice deeply seductive.

He quirked that eyebrow she loved so much.

Sookie snickered, then did something she'd very rarely done in his presence. She giggled, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders and continued laughing lightly into his neck.

"There you are," she whispered into his ear, her voice light and happy and sending shivers down his spine. "I'd wondered where you went."

.

.

.

****A/N: Ok, y'all, what did you think? (And before you pelt me with rotten fruit, for the record I *am* planning an epilogue to be completed within the next few weeks…)****


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